changing the entirety of the story ; no sappy and unrealistic crashes , more angst , heartbreak but also fluff and uwu

enjoy !

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 The day was almost ending, the clock hung above one of the hangars read almost five in the evening, and everyone felt content with how the day had gone. There hadn't been any attacks, nor any lost pilots from different bases they'd need to help around, just a day filled with practices and unfulfilled duties, that needed to be finished, since a royal ball would be held soon for the young heir to the throne. Of course Wooyoung knew; out of all the soldiers in the base, he was one of the few who actually had a couple of good friends among the royal guards. He used to serve there for a couple of months, as some sort of a practice, perhaps even preparation before he went to serve the kingdom, and had managed to find himself a couple of good, loyal friends among the soldiers. 

"We need two vipers, right now! Everyone line up!" An angry, almost irritated voice called loudly, maing everyone drop whatever it was they were doing to listen to their General. Even though the day was rather calm, with occasional added duties, the young blond still felt like fainting, as he ran over to take his spot beside his best friend in the line. He was exhausted from the day before, when they had to practice and work out with minimal breaks. That was the harsh reality of having General Jung as their crew leader for the month. Unlike O-10 General Lee, Jung's husband, this man was nowhere near nice or merciful. He might have treated his men fairly and with tons upon tons of respect, but he never made exceptions towards the younger or injured soldiers. He'd always say that nobody would have mercy on them in the battle fields. And he was right. However, Wooyoung never really cared – he'd been serving on this base longer than the married Generals; nothing really caught him off guard anymore. "I want First Lieutenant Song, and Captain Jeong to prepare themselves for an urgent flight right now, there's an enemy circling our coasts. Pilots from Seoul city base will join you, dismissed." He asked loudly, the two saluting in response, tension heaving in the already thick, humid air. It's not often their flights are not a just drill.

 Both men took their leave from the line, being followed by other two pilots from their crew, that usually accompanied them. Wooyoung briefly looked up at his best friend, with nothing behind his eyes. Military taught him to be fearless and brave, it taught him to hide is emotions well, taught him to be void. He hated it, really - it wouldn't allow him to show his emotions well, couldn't show his gratitude to the giant of a man that always stood by his side through thick and thin. Mingi, unlike Wooyoung, knew how to suppress his feelings without completely destroying them. He also showed it a lot – his smile served as a dailydose of serotonin for every single person that had met him throughout the day. The redhead was a sunshine; a living source of happiness, and there was not a single soldier who wouldn't love to be around him. The blond had always adored how happy the man was, and he had wished to be like him one day, too. Him and Mingi have been friends ever since they were born- growing up in the same neighborhood - and enlisted with the same dream of becoming successful pilots. They wanted to be by each other's sides at all times, no exceptions, and they made it. They were basically inseparable, stuck at the hip.

 It's silent when the four of them set foot into the hangar's secluded changing room, and all four of them start shaking off their uniforms, slipping into the jump suits necessary for their departure. They're grey, worn out and so uncomfortably warm when they step out underneath the sun later, but they're more than necessary to wear now, when there's a threat because even though they're uncomfortable and heavy, they're still fire-proof. There's not a single word spoken as the crew changes, eyes averted to offer privacy of sorts, yet they're still closed up in a small room - there's still hands brushing against one another absently; it's almost impossible to be discreet. And although the mood is solemn, the only woman on their crew speaks and Wooyoung thinks how much he'd had missed her when she'd left to help to Afghanistan months ago. "Wooyoung, Mingi; For how long have you guys been here? You seem quite immune to Jung and his annoying ass," Maya, the only foreigner in the base asked, curiosity lacing the soft of her voice. When she first came to he base, nobody had liked her, simply for the fact that she came from America. Americans were known for being snobby and lazy when it came to the army but she had proved otherwise and adapted to the fast and hard pace of the Koreans quite well. Wooyoung pitied her at first, because she unwillingly became a victim of bullying and blackmailing, and he took it as his personal mission to keep her safe from any harm, like he had done for Jongho and Mingi; the other members of his crew. Maya was a sweetheart and always had something to give whenever she'd returned back from her summer breaks in California.

 "In duty for six years, flying for five; Me and Mingi joined together. Jung and Lee transferred here from Jeju a year after us – I personally never really cared about him. As long as you don't get on his nerves, he doesn't care about you either," Wooyoung shrugged his shoulders, arms stretching out to grab his helm, and zip up the jump suit. "I joined when I was seventeen," He added, noticing the slight pout forming on the youngest pilot's lips. Jongho had joined the army about two years ago; he might've just turned eighteen that time, if the blond remembered correctly, yet it was still impressive of him to join at all. Applying for the Air force was another story. Wooyoung knows many people who'd left the kingdom in order to completely ditch the duty – just so they wouldn't have to serve – and to see young people join always brought a smile up the pilot's lips. "Hey, don't pout. You're nineteen and already a pilot. Cheer up, I know men over thirty, who wouldn't even try," Wooyoung playfully hit the younger's shoulder, before giving a slight smile to his tallest friend. He then left to check his vehicle, that already stood on the runway, waiting for the pass to board it. It was a very dumb rule – to wait for an official to tell him he's able to sit in his own, assigned aircraft, but it ran there for more than a decade now and everyone had seemed to respect it, and so did the blond. He watched, as the other three aircrafts were being pulled up to the runway by other soldiers and sighed, eyes flickering in between all the people impatiently. They fell on a familiar giant, and a toothy smile had tugged on his chapped lips.

 Mingi showed him thumbs up with an even bigger smile, as he neared his plane, then he climbed inside. Wooyoung took it as his own clue to board the vehicle, and finally took the built-in ladder to sit on his seat and buckle up. He hadn't flown in a couple of days, seeing the coasts were mostly clear nowadays, but it was just a matter of time until someone would snoop around - he knew it. It's always like that. "Damn, I'm so hungry. Can we do this quickly?" A whine came through the walkie talkie, the blond rolling his eyes with a chuckle, while putting on a helm and adjusting the mic of his headphones. Wooyoung also closed the cockpit and made sure everything was more than secured, before turning on his own transmitter. "Falcon 1, Viper 4 & 7, and MiG are ready on R-93. Viper 4 over." Mingi announced, after he, too, closed the cockpit of his own aircraft, noticing the other two pilots were ready. Wooyoung, as the leader of the four membered crew, stood in the front, with Maya and Mingi behind him and Jongho at the end. The young blond held the important role of leading the crew off the ground and through the skies, while Jongho held the important job of looking over their surroundings for potential danger. The other two Vipers acted as wings, to protect the other two and distract if needed.

 "Tower 1 understood. Falcon 1 has green, Viper 4, 7 has the green in one and MiG close behind. T-1 Over." The static noise soon ended and Wooyoung finally started up the engine, the unpleasant sound of the gears working were suppressed slightly by the headphones the Captain wore and he grimaced. He pulled the shift stick and made the plane work finally, then after he's reached the speed needed for takeoff, he pulled at the joystick, the aircraft taking off of the ground, nose pointed towards the sky. It took seconds, until he's reached the height where no birds flew, and where it was safe to fly. Soon, the other three pilots joined him, and they were on their way towards the coast. No words were spoken among them – they weren't needed, and the blond liked to drown in his own thoughts, as much as it hurt him sometimes. Most of the time, though, he'd focus on his duties and schedules for the upcoming days, thought of what he could do to improve his leading skills or how he could reach the Tomcat General Lee had promised him sooner. Of course, he'd loved his Falcon, but the aircraft wasn't called 'the sacred plane of death' for nothing.

 In fact, this type was well known for its malfunctioning, technical difficulties and hard manipulations, but over the years, the blond had learned to work with it. He hadn't had a problem with the vehicle so far, and actually loved flying with it, but there was just something special about the F-14 the base got as a gift from a European country whose name Wooyoung couldn't quite recall. He remembered it being a huge deal though, and him and Mingi were actually one of the few people who got to accompany the pilots from Europe on their way over the Russian territory. That day, he got to meet this one man from the royal guard. His name was San, if Wooyoung's mind served him right; and he was the sassiest idiot he'd ever got to meet, yet his eyes were on him at all times. They were like magnets of sorts, and the blond had absolutely hated the way his heart would beat out of his ribcage whenever their eyes had locked, or how he'd stuttered when they were forced to talk for the local press to have something to write about. The next morning, after the ceremony when the news came out, they were full of them speculating whether the two soldiers were dating. Annoying much.

 "Captain Jeong, Choi speaking. We're nearing the East coast, should we split up?" The young pilot asked, his plane peeking from behind Mingi's ever so slightly. The Captain thought about it for a split second before nodding to himself, a strat forming in his brain. The man pushed a button on the side of his headphones and spoke, voice raspy from the height differences and from the lack of water he'd drank that fine summer day.

 "You and Maya take the East coast, me and Mingi will check the North-East side. If there's anything suspicious, tell us. We will head back home in an hour. Jeong over," With that, the four aircrafts split into groups of two.